


The Paris Princess

by MusicalDoodleBug



Series: The Paris Princess and the Pastry Prince [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Agreste Bakery, Cheng Designs, F/M, Friend Swap, Life Swap, New Kid Nino, School Life, cuteness, fashion - Freeform, puns, reverse au, ”Princess” Mari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 08:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14891387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalDoodleBug/pseuds/MusicalDoodleBug
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng had grown up like every other normal girl.Okay. That was a lie. Most girls hadn’t been modeling since they could walk, could play the piano practically perfectly, and were fluent in Chinese.These were perfectly normal to Marinette. After all, when your mother is the head of Cheng Designs, you’re also expected to uphold those standards.——//——LIFE SWAP AU





	1. A Normal Life

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. So I took a little break from writing. Heh. May or may not have gotten sick. But here’s this. I happen to love this idea, and I really hope to continue it on in the future. I’m sorry to my readers. I know I need to write Miraculous Markings. I just have no inspiration. So you get this other series instead. Heh. I really do love you guys. You are all so awesome. Ok. Happy readings!
> 
> XOXO DoodleBug

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had grown up like every other normal girl. 

Okay. That was a lie. Most girls hadn’t been modeling since they could walk, could play the piano practically perfectly, and were fluent in Chinese. 

These were perfectly normal to Marinette. After all, when your mother is the head of Cheng Designs, you’re also expected to uphold those standards. 

——//——

Marinette had grown up in Paris. Her home was full of so much love. Her mother sewed and drew, weaving beautiful works of art. Her father baked, making treats, and cooked, creating the best dinners in the world. There was never need for a chef in the Dupain-Cheng home. 

Marinette grew up so loved. She was daddy’s little girl, playing in the kitchen, helping him ice cupcakes to take to mummy’s office. But she also loved drawing. Her mother had been thrilled to discover her daughters interest in fashion. 

And so the flour covered girl became polished with glitter. She began modeling for her mother, designing her own clothes in her spare time. She filled sketchbook after sketchbook, receiving critiques from her mother. Her designs began to appear crisper, more of what was expected of someone much older. And when Marinette was only ten, she began sewing her own clothing. 

It started off sloppy, sure, but Marinette was proud. She gave homemade presents to everyone. Chloë, Marinette’s best friend, even asked for her clothes. So, Marinette made them. And each stitch got better. Each hem became straighter. 

And by the age of twelve, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had released her first clothing line. Under her mother of course. And she continued to model. She had also picked up ballet along the way. Something that her mother suggested to “make her more graceful.”

Hey! She did kind of need it. But Marinette’s life was perfect. 

Until it wasn’t. 

There was a break in. Sabine was off on a business trip. The alarms weren’t working. And that was how Marinette was found, locked in the embrace of her father. He had taken a bullet for her. 

The cameras of course had caught everything. And Sabine became frightened. She was terrified for her daughter’s safety. So what was the best option?

Send her to live with Sabine’s family in China. 

Marinette was sent away immediately following the funeral. Sabine stayed in Paris, rebuilding her fashion empire. She cleaned up the messes, and made herself stronger. But in doing that, she pushed her daughter away. 

Of course, Marinette still continued to model. After all, her mum had fashion locations all throughout Europe and Asia. But she was lonely. She behaved, did what her mother asked of her. Picked up the piano and let her grandmother homeschool her. 

After all, public school was no place for a famous designer’s daughter. 

——//——

Marinette had to keep a pleasant smile on her face. She was raised better than to squeal. Squealing was for pigs, not young ladies. 

“Yes Mother. I understand Mother. I will see you soon. Have a wonderful day.” She kept her voice nice and even. /She was going home!/

A year was a long time to stay in China with her grandma. Not that she didn’t love her. Oh no. She was someone Marinette wanted around all the time. But her mother would never approve of some of the things she was allowed to do here. 

Looking towards her grandmother, she saw she was finished with the phone. Grabbing it, she placed it back on the stand. Then she turned to await what her grandmother would say. 

“Of course you can go home, Mari!” the old woman responded to Marinette’s stiffness. “You are not a tree, you don’t have to be so straight. Go ahead, up to your room, and gather your things.” The old woman chucked when her granddaughter burst out a huge grin. She heard the door fling open, and then another door. 

Oh that girl was something. 

——//——

When the day came for Marinette to go back to Paris, her grandmother went with her. The old woman seemed to have something planned. But as to what it was, Marinette had no clue. It didn’t bother her either. She was bouncing with anticipation of going home. 

Security was a breeze, and both made it to the gate together with an hour to spare. They sat down, and Marinette straightened her outfit. It was from her mother’s new line, just released. She had to look presentable when arriving in Paris. 

Her pink jeans were warm, but not overbearing. They were styled with a white shirt, a dark grey jacket, and her favorite flats. She looked presentable, and it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

Finally, the intercom announced the boarding, and Marinette spring out of her seat. She gave her grandmother a hug, kissed her cheeks, and grabbed her bag. She began to walk towards the door. 

“Marinette wait!”

Her grandmother beckoned for her. She hug in her pockets, before pulling out a box. 

“This is a sacred family heirloom. I want you to wear them all the time. You’ll find that they really are special. And you don’t want to lose them either.”

“Yes grandmother. But-“ she looked at her grandmother with her eyebrows risen, “if I don’t want to lose them, maybe I shouldn’t wear them?”

“Oh you must! You have to wear them! Oh-“ she lowered her voice, “Marinette. Only try them on when you are alone.”

And with that, her grandmother walked away. Marinette watched her, definitely confused. She was a crazy old woman. 

Oh well. She couldn’t dwell on it now. She had a plane to board!

She was going home. 

——//——

“Today’s news is exceptional. There is...” the television droned on. Adrien sat at the table, eating one of his mother’s fresh baked croissants. He heard footsteps running up the stairs, turning just in time for his mother to kiss his forehead. 

“I’m gonna be running the bakery today. Your papa has been baking so many cakes for that one delivery, I swear we’ll never get the fondant out of that apron.” She stopped her running around the kitchen, shooting Adrien a warm smile. Adrien just grinned back. He really loved his mom. 

“Oh, Adrien. When you finish eating make sure to get the laundry folded. And don’t you even try folding the clothes they way your father does. There is only one way clothes should be...” she continued ranting, finally finding her apron and running back downstairs. 

Adrien heard a grunt and a hiss. His mom often missed a few steps going back down. He just smiled. 

His croissant had gone slightly cold, but that didn’t stop him from shoving the whole thing into his mouth. He heard running footsteps again, and waited for the sweet sound of his mother’s voice to tell him to do something. 

He wasn’t expecting the weight of another body slamming into him, knocking him off of his seat. 

“Hey! What’s the big idea-mmmpph-“ the mop of red-brown hair put her hand over his mouth. 

“Oh my goodness Adrien! Guess what!” Adrien’s good friend, Alya, asked. Or more like stated. Adrien knew by now to let the Girl continue talking. She often answered her own “questions.”

“Adrien! Do you remember the Cheng fashion incident? Like about a year ago? Oh of course you do! You listened to me ramble about it for a week. Well, Sabine Cheng’s daughter is coming back to Paris!”

Alya was always obsessed with celeb drama. Of course, any of it that didn’t include Chloë. Adrien didn’t even fight as Alya dragged him over to the couch, where the news was already playing. She browsed around a few channels, finally settling on one and pointing.

“Good Morning Paris! I’m Nadia Chamak, bringing you some breaking news. Paris’ own fashion princess herself, Marinette Cheng, is rumored to be returning to Paris. After the death of her father, the girl went to stay in China with her family, causing many to speculate that-“

Alya hit mute, and turned to Adrien with a huge grin on her face. “She’s coming back! The Paris Princess is coming back!” Alya continued chanting, bouncing up and down in her seat. 

“And why is this so important, Alya?”

“Well, duh!” She looked at Adrien like he had no clue what was going on. “It means more gossip for my blog!” Adrien rolled his eyes. Of course. 

Alya nudged him. “I’m kidding. Okay. I’m mostly kidding. But you forget, sunshine, I used to know her.”

“You didn’t Alya.” He received a elbow to he ribs for that one. 

“First off, you need to eat more. Like you live above a bakery, and you are skin and bones. And second, uh, pretty boy, I took dance with the amazing Marinette Cheng.”

“Alya. You took the hip hop and tap classes that were always after hers.”

“Yeah, but...” she seemed lost for a moment. Then the fire sprung back in her eyes. “But I actually talked to her. And I shared a shoe cubby with her.”

Adrien could only roll his eyes. He began picking himself off of the couch, and went to the kitchen to wash his dishes. Alya trailed him like a sad puppy. She was going on and on about how Marinette would be an awesome friend for her. 

“Look Als. You know I love you, but isn’t she friends with Chloë?” The nod he received was more than enough to continue. “Then she’s probably just another stuck up rich kid. And besides, we won’t have to deal with her. So, let’s just enjoy the last day of summer, ok?”

Alya, looked disheartened, before a grin lit up her face. 

“Bet I can frost more cookies than you!”

“Oh you’re on!”

——//——


	2. Not so Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette arrives in Paris. She makes an unlikely friend, as well as is reaquanted with an old one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I had a little too much fun writing this chapter. And a few distractions. Thanks to my amazing “manager” and her wonderful commentary about Pixelator. But seriously, I really do love you guys so much. I never thought that I would be writing stuff people would want to read. But here I am. And there you guys are. Ahhh. Words cannot describe how much you guys mean to me. So, thank you. And happy reading!
> 
> XOXO DoodleBug

Marinette was not expecting the peace and quiet that met her when she stepped off the plane. But she wasn’t complaining. It was nice to have a break from cameras. 

She walked closer to the baggage claim, preparing to try and find her luggage when a voice called her name. She turned to see a young woman. 

The woman, and who she presumed to be his son, were standing next to a cart, piled high with the pastel pink luggage. Marinette cringed. She didn’t like it when other people treated her like a famous brat. She would much rather do her own work. 

“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry you had to gather all of these. Here, let me-“ but Marinette was cut off by the woman. She laughed and looked at Marinette like crazy. As if she would be allowed to cart her own luggage!

“Oh nonsense Ms. Cheng,” Marinette inwardly cringed. She missed her dad so dearly, and it annoyed her that she was no longer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but just Marinette Cheng. 

Marinette was jerked out of her thought by the woman putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Mrs. Francine Lahiffe. I’m your mother’s assistant. And this is my son, Nino.”

The boy, Nino, merely looked up from his phone to give the girl a nod. Marinette watched as his mother flicked the cap on the boy’s head and shot him a look. Nino immediately took off his headphones and pocketed his phone. 

“How do you do Miss Cheng?” he asked, sticking out his hand for her to shake. Once Marinette shook it, Francine seemed pleased. 

“Well, I’m going to find this bodyguard of yours. He’s supposed to be here to carry out your luggage. Miss Cheng, Nino, stay right here. I’ll be right back.” And with that, she was off, typing on her tablet. 

Once she was away, Marinette allowed herself to relax. She always was tense around adults. After all, most of them were judging her, trying to find any way to fault the girl. 

“Okay, now I can talk to you for real.” Marinette looked up from the floor to see the boy smiling at her. “What would you actually liked to be called?”

Marinette felt her eyebrows raise in surprise. No one ever called her anything except Miss. Or the Paris Princess. But she honestly hated that name, Chloë was the one who should have it. If her father was still mayor...well, he probably was. 

“Um...Marinette is fine.”

Nino seemed to be in a bit of shock. “Wait. You, you don’t have any nicknames?” Marinette shook her head. “Well, no offense, but Marinette is a bit of a mouthful. How about, Mari?”

From the look on his face, Marinette knew he was expecting her to be offended. But she only smiled. She really did like it. 

“Mari it is.” 

“So...Mari,” he said, giving her a wink. Marinette could only giggle. “What’s China like?”

Marinette immediately went into detail, telling him all about how crowded it was, but also about the interesting food she had tried that made it worth it. Marinette really felt herself relax around Nino. It was much more interesting talking to him than Chloë or her own cousins. 

Nino would throw in jokes, and interrupt her when something intrigued him. He made her laugh and smile. And really smile, not something she whipped out for a camera. No, her cheeks were hurting. 

Nino was just in the middle of telling her about his old school back in Lyon when his mother interrupted their conversation. She beckoned them towards the front, where Marinette could see people crowded. 

She knew she was showing the disdain on her face when Nino shot her a smile from where he was walking behind his mum. It gave Marinette a little confidence boost. She straightened her posture, and plastered on a smile. 

The second those glass doors opened, Marinette was swarmed with people asking her questions. There were so many flashes, all their own kind of blinding. But Marinette kept her head forward, still smiling. 

Her facade didn’t break until she heard a kid crying. She turned her head to see that a child in a stroller had dropped a toy, and her parents were far more interested in getting pictures of Marinette than helping their daughter. Marinette stopped waking, and turned. She bent down, picking up the little plush cat. She handed it to the child, who immediately started smiling. 

Marinette waved to the girl, before briskly walking, a lady never runs, to the waiting limo. She carefully climbed in, and felt relief when the door finally closed. 

Nino could only shoot her a reassuring smile before he was ushered to the front to sit with Marinette’s bodyguard. 

Marinette sighed as they pulled away from the airport, laying her head against the window. 

Yes, it was good to be home. But Paris had definitely changed since she had left. 

——//——

Arriving home, Marinette was immediately taken to her mother’s office. She noticed every little difference: the house felt colder, and lonelier than ever. It was like the sunshine had been drained from the place. 

But in a way, it had been. Both she and her father had been absent. Her temporarily, him...

No! She wasn’t going to let herself down that path. Cheng women are strong. They don’t cry. 

Marinette listened dutifully as her mother explained what her schedule would be like. Modeling here, ballet there, and of course her Chinese tutor would be there every Monday. Marinette was well aware she was tuning out her mother. 

She was definitely tired from her flight, and the time difference was definitely catching up to her. She felt herself dozing off. 

“...and of course attending school.”

Marinette shot up immediately. All traces of sleepiness were gone as she sat up. 

“Wait, really?”

“Of course. You need to get out in the world a bit. Make a few friends.”

“Yes mother. Thank you mother.”

“That will be all.”

And with a wave of her hand, the office doors opened to a frantically typing Francine. She froze and immediately straightened. Marinette walked toward her, and the woman quickly closed the door. 

Marinette began walking. However she quickly realized she had no idea where she was going. She allowed Francine to take the lead, following as she was escorted to the dining room. She was sat down at the table, and told to wait. 

Marinette cringed as she saw a familiar figure walk into the room. Francine shot her a look, as if apologizing before the war could even start. She too knew this was a loosing fight. 

“Hello again Marinette. It’s been a while,” the lady said. “Let’s see how you’ve been keeping to your diet.”

As soon as Marinette had hit her early teens, a dietitian was granted to her. Her father always disagreed with her mother on the matter, but as always, her mother won. As far as she was concerned, Marinette was too old for having any baby-fat or any fat on her. 

That’s when ballet became more than ballet, but competition and exercise to help her lose weight. Her meals were high in protein, but had no sugar and nothing fatty. 

Marinette would have been miserable if it wasn’t for her father. He snuck her deserts and took her out to cafés every once in a while. 

Marinette was shaken from her memories of her father by the dietitian poking her stomach. 

“Too many fatty foods. You need to definitely diet. All that food from China just added weight back on.”

Marinette was holding back tears and she was dragged over to the scale. Standing on it, she watched as it read 110 pounds. The dietitian gasped, and immediately scolded the girl. 

This would be a lot of salad and misery. She watched as Francine went back towards the kitchen, as well as the dietitian. Looking back to the scale, she saw a mirror leaning against the wall. Marinette looked back where the adults fled, then to the mirror. 

Taking a few steps to the mirror, she looked at the girl who stood there. She had gotten a little taller, probably around five foot three. And by no means did she look fat. At least, in her eyes. In what her grandmother said when she arrived in China. She could never forget the look on the old woman’s face. 

“Marinette. Have they been starving you?”

She had maybe weighed in around 90 pounds. She was skinny. But her mother liked skinny models. So she did what her mother asked. But, although she was fed three times a day, she was never satisfied. Salads only tasted nice for a bit. Then they got boring. And so did yoghurt. She disliked the taste so much. 

But her grandmother took one look at her and cooked so many meals for the girl to enjoy. She was able to taste food again, to be full and satisfied. Oh, how she wished to just be able to eat her favorite dumplings and not have to worry. 

Of course, the dietitian had to choose that moment to rush in, carrying a small salad and a glass of water. They were placed at the table for her to eat, and Marinette slowly made her way towards the table. 

She sat down and began eating, barely listening as the dietitian droned on and on about what she could and couldn’t eat. And about how she had to be back to at most one hundred pounds before her photo shoot at the end of the month. 

Marinette just sighed, and waited for the woman to finally leave her alone. She finished eating, drinking every last drop of water in her glass before rising. She turned to leave, noting that Francine was standing by the doorway. 

She walked up to her, watching as her facial expression flashed between a few. Sorrow, anger, pity, and, something else all made their presence upon the woman’s face. But she put all of those aside, and began walking. 

Marinette followed, noticing that she was being led to the west wing, rather than the east wing where her bedroom used to be. A door was opened down the corridor, as a maid quickly rushed out. Francine led her to that same door, looking to Marinette as if to give her permission to open it. 

Marinette turned the knob, already feeling a sense of dread. This wouldn’t be her room. This wasn’t where she had drawn on the walls, had pictures and her sketches hung up by her desk, and her pastel pink bedding. 

She finally found the courage to open the door. She was met with a very large room, with windows all on one side. The opposite wall was painted a pastel pink. There were high ceilings, as well as a loft. The loft held many book cases, as well as a white canopy bed. Down below, there was a desk with multiple computers, a mirror and ballet barre, and a whole sewing area. There were of course other things that she would notice in the morning, but she was very tired. 

Francine wished her a good night, and left the girl to herself. She flopped down on a pastel pink couch with fluffy white pillows. She tried to make herself comfortable, but felt something pressing into her side. 

She sat up, and felt her pockets. There was something there. She reached her hands in and pulled out a box. It was the dark wooden box her grandmother had given her before she left. 

She ran her fingers over the box, tracing the symbol on top. There were so many intricate details, all in red, and she couldn’t help but feel honored. Her grandmother had trusted her enough to give whatever was inside to her. 

Fiddling with the latch, Marinette struggled to get it to open. She stopped messing with it. And set it down. Closing her eyes, she took a breath, before attempting to open it gently. 

The box popped open, and before Marinette could even see what was inside, and flash of pink light flew from the box.

Marinette dropped the box in surprise, looking to where the little glowing light had landed on the table in front of her. 

“Hello Marinette!” the thing said. 

Marinette screamed. 

——//——

The thing turned out to be a kwami. Or so it asked to be called. It’s name was Tikki, and she was part of a Miraculous. She could give Marinette powers. 

Honestly, that’s all Marinette understood. Tikki had said something bad was coming. And that Marinette would be needed. To fight evil or something. But Marinette didn’t want to hear any more. 

Tikki told Marinette that she would be a friend to her. She would be a mentor. 

And honestly? Right now, that’s what Marinette needed. So the girl listened to Tikki as she brushed her hair and teeth. She put on pajamas, and climbed up the spiral staircase to her bed. She pulled the sheets back, and crawled in. 

She didn’t feel right. She missed her home. But that place seemed so far away now. It didn’t exist anymore. 

Marinette didn’t notice the tear that were falling down her face until Tikki was flying in front of her face to wipe them off. 

The kwami flew closer to Marinette, making a nest in he girl’s hair. Marinette began to relax as Tikki began to tell her stories. About the old times. And about what a difference Marinette would make in the world. 

And somehow, despite the rough day,

Marinette fell asleep with a smile on her face. 

——//——

Marinette was up with the sun, and had calmed down considerably. Tikki was able to tell her more about the miraculous, and Marinette didn’t hesitate to put on the earrings. 

When Francine came to wake her for school, she found the girl sitting on her couch and drawing. Francine gently set down a tray of yoghurt and fruit on the table in front of her. Marinette looked up and thanked her, before going back to her sketch. 

She picked at the food, eating most of the berries. She saved the strawberries, offering them to Tikki. 

Tikki had said she preferred sugar, cookies specifically, but Marinette hadn’t an opportunity to get any to hide yet. 

A knock at the door made Tikki dive for cover. When it opened, Francine was back, this time with Nino standing behind her. 

“Here are your things for school today,” she said, handing Marinette a pink messenger bag. The girl took it, and motioned for Tikki to dive in while she continued talking. “Nino will accompany you walking today. If there are any issues, your bodyguard will begin driving you to school.”

Marinette had to refrain from rolling her eyes at the woman. What was it with people assuming that Marinette was incapable of simple tasks? But instead, Marinette just nodded her head and followed Nino out the door. 

“So,” she began, watching as Nino took the headphones off his ears and let them sit in his neck. “What’s this school like?”

Nino looked at her like she was crazy. “Wait, hold up. You, Marinette, the Princess of Paris, have never been to a real school?”

Marinette felt her face grow warm as she smiled sheepishly. 

“Okay Mari. It’ll probably be like every other school. Like with desks and people and crappy lunches. And teachers that will talk forever and a day about something. And tests. Dude, always remember to study. Oh, and don’t you even try to-“

Marinette smiled as Nino continued to tell her about what public school was like. It was nice to have a friend like him. He made her feel,

Normal. 

He was just in the middle of telling her about the time he broke his arm during recess when there was a scream from in front of them. 

Marinette immediately went tense, preparing to run, when she saw who was screaming. 

A girl with chocolatey skin and red tinted hair stood pointing at the Marinette. The girl’s glasses seemed to be sliding down her face, partially due to the fact that her jaw was hanging open. 

There was a boy that walked out of the door that was behind where the girl was standing. Marinette laughed as he looked at the girl, then to Marinette, and back to his friend. He shot her an apologetic smile before snapping his fingers in the girl’s face. That seemed to shake her out of her shock, and the girl immediately rushed forward, smiling. 

Marinette thought the girl seemed familiar. Somehow. But she continued thinking while the girl rushed into a greeting. 

“Hi Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m such a big fan of your work! Like your line. Oh! And the modeling you do. I actually run a celebrity blog dedicated to people like you and- oh where are my manners? My name is-“

“Alya,” the bluenette finished. “You took dance at the same place I did a few years ago. It’s lovely to see you again.”

Marinette watched as the girl looked to her friend, and then back to Marinette. The look of shock on the Alya’s face was comical, and it seemed that Nino agreed with the sentiment. He burst out laughing, causing Alya to shoot him a look.

“And who might your friend be, Marinette?”

“Oh. This is Nino,” Marinette said, elaborating no further. 

“It’s a pleasure,” Nino said somewhat sarcastically. Alya rolled her eyes, before motioning to the blond boy next to her. 

“Well, this dork here is the pastry prince himself, Adrien Agreste. He makes the best croissants and macarons in all of Paris.”

“Why thank you Alya-“ Adrien began, but was cut off by Alya. 

“He also is the biggest weeb ever. He’s seen every episode of Sailor Moon at least 5 times, and likes to insert lines from them into every conversation.” Alya began play fighting with Adrien as the boy tried to strangle her. 

Marinette just looked at Nino who shrugged at the two. Marinette heard bits of “Don’t you dare,” and “Don’t test me sunshine.”

The two seemed to end in a truce, and Alya grabbed Marinette’s hand before pulling her along towards the school. Alya began going on and on about how she was going to love going to school. Marinette looked behind her shoulder at the boys following them. Nino seemed to be telling Adrien something funny. Or embarrassing, by the way Adrien’s cheeks flushed a bright red. 

They were almost all the way to school when Marinette noticed a group or reporters hanging around in front of the school. Of course. 

“Hey Nino,” Marinette said to the boy behind her. His gaze turned from Adrien to her and she smiled. “Could I borrow your hat for a moment?”

“Uh...sure. I guess Mari.” And he relinquished the hat. Marinette wasted no time in putting it on her head and tucking her hair inside. She dug around in her bag carefully, feeling Tikki point her hand in the right direction. She brought out a pair of sunglasses, very large ones in fact, and put them over her face. 

“Cover me,” was all she said before dropping her gaze to the ground. She felt Alya immediately grab her arm and Nino get into position next to her. They made their way through the wave of people, making it to the doors without hassle. 

And then Chloë arrived. 

“Oh my gosh! Marinette! Bestie! Hi!” the blonde shouted, causing gazes to snap to where Chloë was pointing and waving. 

Shoot. Her cover was blown. 

Mari and her crew made a mad dash inside before the reporters could catch her. She wasn’t expecting the herd of people gathered inside. More specifically, teenagers. 

There were so many squeals as people rushed toward the girl. Thankfully, Nino had been a little prepared, thanks to his mum, and grabbed Marinette’s wrist. He made himself stand up to his full height, no longer slouching, and made himself a human shield to block all of the phone cameras angled at Mari. 

She felt herself be pushed from behind by Alya through the packed hallway. They all finally made their way into a classroom, which thankfully, was only occupied by one student. A red headed boy sat drawing at a back table, and his head shot up the moment he heard the door slam shut. 

Marinette watched as the boy’s face turned a bright red when she caught his gaze. His hair and face were practically the same color. 

But obviously Alya wasn’t having any of that. She took the girl by the hand and dragged her into a vacant desk toward the front. Nino and Adrien sat down right in front of them. 

Marinette finally allowed herself to take a deep breath. 

Boy, school was a lot different than she expected. 

——//——

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. So that was a bit of a ride. You can thank my friend for her awesome character analysis charts she made me to help write. Like, she is awesome. (Also for her presuring me to write.) But I do want to say, in NO WAY am I saying 110 pounds is fat. Or that 90 pounds is normal. No. Those are really skinny numbers and in most cases are NOT HEALTHY. Hence the reason I’m being somewhat mean and making Mari struggle with body issues. But i promise, she will learn to feel good in her own body. What her mom in the story is doing to her is not right, and I do not note condone this kind of behavior.  
> So, giant rant over, I really am loving to write this story. It helps me personally being the characters down to earth a little more. To make them struggle. But that’s how they develop. You push them through tough things and see how they react.  
> Okay. I really have a problem with ranting today. Oh well. You can blame my friend for making me write at midnight. But you guys are awesome and I really can’t wait for you to read what I have planned for next time. See you soon!  
> Bug out!

**Author's Note:**

> Hmmm. What to do what to do. There are so many directions I could go. But oh well. Creativity strikes at random time. Heh. But you guys really are awesome, and writing so much “recently” really helps me feel confident. So, I hope you like it, and i hope there’s more to come with this idea. Because I really like it. I know I say it every time, but you guys are awesome. Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Bug Out!


End file.
